


Bury My Skin In Ink

by CravingCraze



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tattoo Artist Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Tattoo artist Connor, evan stutters, soft connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravingCraze/pseuds/CravingCraze





	Bury My Skin In Ink

Connor hummed as he formed a new picture in his sketchbook, listening to the drag of the pencil against the the paper. It was a late night shift, and he was fortunate enough to not have to deal with any drunks just yet, because his coworker had taken care of one just that night.

Unfortunately, the parlor allowed drunks to get tattooed. If the customer was unsatisfied, they'd remove it for free, but wouldn't give a refund. This would lead to threats of lawsuits, but thankfully they were either empty threats, or the customer would loose all together.

Connor looked up when he saw another figure walk into the parlor. They were clearly sober, unlike the other people he'd thrown out earlier that night. Still, it was weird that he was coming this late, but business was business, he supposed.

The mystery guy was a short blond, wearing a polo and a grey juniper jacket over it, with brown khakis. Baby blue eyes scanned their surroundings while the owner twisted his shirt's hem up like a tornado.

Connor cleared his throat to catch the other's attention. "Hey there. Can I help you?" He asked, shutting his notebook and walked over to the front desk. 

"Um, yes! I'd like a, a tattoo, please? I know it's late but nobody's around to s-stare or judge me so..." the guy trailed off. "I'd like a tattoo."

Connor had encountered a few people like this before, and didn't have a problem with it, as long as he had his fix of coffee. "Sure. Can I get a name?"

"Evan. Evan Hansen," he replied.

Connor entered this information into the machine. He looked at Evan and made a small, friendly smile. "Alrighty, follow me, as I'll be your tattoo artist for tonight. I'm Connor, by the way."

Evan trailed behind Connor with a small smile, looking around as he was lead into a chair. Connor grabbed his sketchbook, flipped to a clean page, and took a seat. 

"So, what'd you want for your tattoo and where?" Connor looked at him attentively.

"I'd um- I'd like a dash next to a semi colon. On my inner forearm. It's to uh, r-represent my social anxiety," Evan admitted. 

"So something personal... Interesting.." Connor sketched it quickly in a few different styles, before showing them to Evan.

Evan gazed at a few, before choosing one that was close to the _Times New Roman _font.

Connor stood and went to fill his needle. "Just black, right?"

Evan hummed in response. 

After the needle was filled, he set Evan's jacket in a free chair and propped his forearm. "This is your first tattoo, right?"

"Y-yeah," he nodded.

"This won't feel so bad. It'll sting, but you're gett this in like, one of the best places for a first tattoo," Connor assured him, before patting his arm gently. "Now let's get started! Ready?" 

"As I'll ever be," Evan joked, but nodded again.

The process didn't take long, only forty five minutes, as Evan winced in pain and tried his best to keep his arm still. Connor chatted with him about his job, hobbies, and told stories of when he had to throw out mad drunks who were demanding refunds. 

The tattoo was soon done, and Connor explained how to treat it to avoid infection, and made sure it was covered properly. Overal, the tattoo was seventy five dollars, which Evan was content to pay. He left the parlor with a large smile on his face.

But that wasn't the only time he came in.

A few weeks later, Evan had stopped by for another tattoo, similar to his first. He had asked for a text bubble with the words "I am..." inside. He made the bubble a baby blue and the word white.

After that, he got three tattoos. They were all on the sides of his neck, one representing attraction towards females, another towards guys, and a third towards someone in the middle of the gender spectrum. 

His fourth tattoo was his mother's name on his left shoulder. 

The fifth one was a bit larger, on his right leg's bicep. It was a rose.

The sixth had a special meaning to him. It was one of the largest he'd gotten yet. It was a tree, and he'd gotten it on his upper back. While it was definitely painful and he did cry (whether he wanted to admit that or not) the product was worth it. It was beautifully carved, not fully detailed but not lacking either. He absolutely loved it.

He was intending on getting a seventh, but it only made it past the drafting stage. That was only because it was cheesy, to say the least.

" 'Will you go out with me?' That's the- that's the tattoo I want," Evan had said, blushing lightly.

Connor slowly connected the dots, but grinned, "Hey, how about a date instead of a tattoo? It'll be my treat."

They'd eaten at a simple coffee shop, and Evan revealed the real reason he kept getting all those tattoos at night.

"I just wanted to spend time with you," he admitted sheepishly, messing with his napkin. "You hardly ever had the, the d-day shift, so... this was my solution."

"Would you still get my work tattooed on your skin even if it was completely shit?" Connor teased him after learning this.

Evan laughed, "You wouldn't be a tattoo artist if it was bad!"

"That's what you think," Connor just winked at him. 

Needless to say, the last tattoo he got was a heart on his shoulder, with the words “Love is Love” inside.


End file.
